Getting Closer III
by Basched
Summary: To The Past: Becker and Matt finally get together, only to have someone from the past threaten everything. Matt/Becker. Slash.


_Author's Note: Finally got round to posting this up here. Last part of my Getting Closer trilogy, which is rated for the man sex and swearages. Do enjoy the Mecker goodness. Big thanks to FredBassett for the beta. Though mistakes are all me! _

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><p><strong>Getting Closer: To The Past<strong>

The three beers had gone down nicely between them and they'd eased the awkward silence into a relatively—but not quite—comfortable one. When Becker's supply had finished, Matt offered up some of his own, but even then they couldn't find anything to say. Nor could they manage to look at each other.

During the long dragging hour, Becker took to gazing out at the city through the glass, his fingers tapping against the beer can and his eyes briefly looking back to Matt, who was leaning against his kitchen counter flicking the ring pull on his own can. When Becker finished one drink, Matt was instantly there with a fresh one for both of them. A slight smile or a bob of the head was the only thanks he got.

One hour dragged into two, and there was now a nice little line of empty cans on Matt's counter. Becker finished his fifth drink—Matt offered him a sixth—and he reached out for the can. Instead of touching the cool metal surface of the can, his fingers grazed Matt's knuckles.

There was a shock, a tiny static spark shot between them and it jolted Becker to his feet so quickly, the chair he had been sitting on fell flat on its back. Becker's face burned, flushed with embarrassment and he stormed towards the stairs.

"You leaving?" Matt called out, making the younger man halt at the top of the stairs.

"Thanks for the beer."

"That's all you're going to say?"

"There's nothing more _to_ say." Becker replied gruffly. There was the sound of a can being tossed into the rubbish bin from across the room.

"We haven't said anything. We need to discuss this, Becker."

Becker turned round and looked at Matt. The guy appeared so calm as if this whole thing wasn't bothering him in the slightest. Becker hated the fact that Matt could be so damned cool about what had happened between them.

"Discuss what? I'm not…." The word caught in his throat for a moment and he gestured angrily with his finger "I'm…I'm not gay, Matt. Never have been! What happened between us…"

"What _is_ happening between us?" Matt scowled and shook his head, before approaching Becker. "It isn't going to go away, just because we want it to. It's certainly not going to stop affecting our jobs until we confront it, Abby and the others rely on us to…"

"Oh…so you want to talk about it?" Becker scoffed. "You want to really talk about what you were doing to me?"

"Are you trying to tell me you didn't like it and that you don't want to try it again?"

Something snapped inside Becker. "You fucking shit!"

A fist swung at him and if Matt hadn't moved, it would have caught him square on the jaw. The glancing blow caused him to stagger and instinctively, Matt brought a punch up into Becker's stomach. Becker gasped and coughed and his feet faltered back but he didn't relent.

He swiped out again landing a successful clout to Matt's shoulder and as his friend nearly collapsed against the counter, Becker took the opportunity to lunge. Keeping low and using all his pent up anger and frustration he tackled Matt, lifting him up and over the counter.

He hadn't expected legs and arms to wrap around him and pull him over. Matt flipped the tackle into a roll and it was Becker who landed on the floor first, heavily. He yelled in agony when the weight of the Irishman impacted with him. Becker glared up and only barely avoided a punch to his face by dodging his head to the right. Then his knee rose sharply up and into Matt's back, as his own fist repaid the earlier stomach hit in kind.

"Oh, you fuck!" Matt's grip released and he collapsed backwards, spluttering and spitting, rolling over the cans and numerous other items that had once sat neatly on the kitchen counter.

The two of them tried to get back to their feet- the clutter of the mess and the fact they were both winded made it a struggle but they managed it. Becker shook his head to clear his vision and clung to the counter; Matt coughed heavily a couple of times and reluctantly had to spit on his own floor.

It took only a moment before he realised that Becker had approached him again and he wasn't going to let up. Matt dodges his left hook but he couldn't stop Becker's right from striking at his jaw. He tasted blood in his mouth—quite a lot of it—his vision blurred from the shock, and he felt his body shaking.

He yelled and grabbed Becker's t-shirt with both hands and turned them around so he could slam Becker against the wall. Matt shoved him again and again but Becker pushed back, sending them both stumbling out from behind the counter. With a crafty hook of his foot around Becker's leg, Matt whipped his hands up to a position where he could trip him up.

Matt wished he'd seen where Becker was going to land before he did.

The glass of the coffee table shattered and Becker yelled as the glass cut into his skin then his body broke the frame of the table. The pain was evident on his face he was seething and Becker was clearing going to waste no time in getting up to make Matt pay for what he'd done

The back of his t-shirt was ripped to shreds, his back was bare, cut and bleeding from the glass and Becker was not looking happy. He swung with a fist again and Matt dodged it easily, returning one of his own. Becker ducked and Matt's knuckles just grazed the top of his head as it flew over the top.

After a few more misses, their attacks began to land. The hits were heavy, hard and brutal, releasing the anger and frustration both of them were feeling and achieving something that words couldn't seem to express. The only sounds were the heaving grunts and yells from both. Nothing escaped damage, especially not them.

Becker felt something crack in his Matt's body when he grabbed the tattered remains of Matt's shirt and used it to haul him up and heave him against the wall. Becker saw the blood dripping from the Irishman's mouth and from the slight cut on his cheek. It stained Matt's clothes and Becker's blood caked his knuckles.

Becker saw his own hands were the same as they pinned back Matt's shoulders. He could smell the blood, he could feel how slick it was running over his skin and when he looked directly at Matt, his gut wrenched hard and a stabbing sensation jabbed in his chest. He had beaten his friend….he hurt him.

Becker looked at the injuries he'd inflicted. Matt was panting to regain his breath and he looked terrible, but Becker suddenly felt extremely turned on. The fight had aroused both of them into such a state that talking about their feelings, doubts and fears wasn't necessary. Becker was now so pumped up and riled that he knew that he had to go through it.

_"Do it…"_

He leaned in closer to Matt, his breath still deep and uneven from the fight, and loosened his grip on his shirt. Although he could see Matt was eager for him to make the next move, Becker wasn't even sure exactly what he was going to do, but only that he had to it.

It was instant…his tongue lashed out and caught a trail of blood falling down Matt's neck. Becker lapped it up hungrily to Matt's chin, where his lips then sucked at Matt's skin before enveloping his mouth. He saw Matt's eyes widen in alarm and his body stiffened, but when Becker reached up and fisted in his fingers in Matt's hair, he repaid in kind. Matt kissed him back and shoved away from the wall with a strong push.

He couldn't think. Becker couldn't register anything else other than Matt, the taste of his blood in his mouth and the feel of his hands that now ripped desperately at his hair. Never had anyone made him feel so powerful, so enraged and so damned hard.

A surge of adrenalin seemed to soar through him; he kissed Matt hungrily and Matt did the same back. As his hands fell from Matt's head to his back, Becker steered them through the mess on the floor, holding onto Matt so tightly his nails were digging into skin. Matt hissed at the slight sting they caused and bit down on Becker's tongue.

"You bastard!" Becker gasped, as he pulled sharply out of the kiss.

"Stop whining and shut up!"

Becker found himself smiling. He met Matt's gaze and saw that cheeky fiendish grin on his bloodied face.

_"Smug git." _He thought jokingly, before crushing his mouth against Matt's again in a much more powerful kiss. Whilst he pulled the remains of Matt's shirt off his back, Becker pushed them to the end of the apartment where the bed was.

As soon as the back of Matt's knees touched the bed, Becker stopped the kiss and pushed the other man down. He grinned and then whipped the shreds of his t-shirt off and proceeded to unbuckle his belt and trousers. Becker wanted this…he wanted to carry on and do this with the man sprawled on the bed. He needed to. Every part of his body was yelling at him to continue and it wasn't giving him a choice.

As he undressed, urgently and quickly, with his body telling him to, _'Get a fucking move on!' _Matt was doing the same, wincing and groaning as all the injuries they'd acquired from their foreplay made it more difficult, but no less urgent.

It wasn't weird or creepy anymore. The fear they had felt in the showers was non-existent. Becker looked at Matt as they both stripped and saw the scars, combined with the new bruises and cuts on his body, and knew that he must have him here and now. Becker was throbbing, he was so hard that it was painful to pull his boxers off. Every part of him needed to have relief and release, but not from anyone other than Matt. Naked, Becker knelt on the edge of the bed, slipped Matt's trousers off the end of his feet and dropped them to the floor.

He wiped his hand over his face, his blood and sweat smeared across his skin but that didn't matter. His heart was pumping faster now, his breath came in deep pants and his mouth was salivating as he saw that same primal look on Matt's face.

Matt was glorious naked, though Becker never thought he would think that about another man. Dragging his eyes over Matt's paler, muscled flesh, his hand followed; he grabbed at Matt's neck and rubbed his thumb over the blood smeared over his throat, before trailing his hand down through the hair on his chest, down over his stomach, his pelvis and legs. The contours were amazingly different beneath his hand, so different from the softer curves of a woman. There was power…strength in this body, and this was what would calm him, sate the lust their fight had built up.

Without wasting any more time, Becker stroked his palm across Matt's abdomen, raked his fingers through the light hair on his scrotum and took hold. Like Matt had done for him in the showers, Becker began to pump the other man's cock, making slow movements with his hand as he moved himself level with Matt.

Becker smirked as Matt's eyes fluttered closed and his mouth dropped open. Matt's hand shot up and grabbed the back of Becker's head, his fingers curling and pulling in time with the jerks on his erection. His moans made an excited rush sweep through Becker's body and even when he quickened the pace, it only made his dick ache more.

Becker snarled and let go.

"What the-?"

"Stop whining, Anderson," Becker joked, getting to his knees and positioning Matt's legs round either side of his hips. "And shut up."

"Fine! Just….here!" Matt clearly knew what Becker intended and he had an easy reach to the small cabinet next to the bed. He opened the drawer and fumbled inside, and then lobbed a condom packet at Becker. It hit him in the face and dropped into his hands.

Becker tore it open and quickly put it on. The coolness of the lube barely did anything to dampen his arousal, but he leaned back, angling himself and stared down into Matt's eyes.

There was no waiting, no murmurs or talk of 'going too fast' or 'I'm not ready.' There were no comforting words of caution or sweet whispers in each others' ears, because neither of them wanted that. Such affection wouldn't have felt right. Not yet.

Keeping his weight slightly off Matt with one hand, Becker used his left to hold his cock, and placed it perfectly at Matt's entrance. He counted quickly under his breath to two and then he began to push.

"Holy fucking hell!"

Becker felt Matt's whole body tense and he saw his skin reddened at the pain coursing through his body. A heavy sweat began to pour off him as Becker pushed deeper and deeper and Becker himself was taken aback by how tight Matt was around him. He thought he might spend himself right there.

He collapsed onto top of Matt, laid his gasping face in the nook of Matt's neck and pressed his shaking hands onto Matt's chest, feeling the man's slick hot skin. After some hard, gagging breaths, he continued to push with his hips, even though the pressure felt as if it was going to kill him.

Matt was so tense that with Becker's girth inside him, it could only be making his pain worse, but Becker hoped the pleasure combined with the pain would be just as intense. Matt's breath hissed through his clenched teeth his legs spasmed and his hands dug hard into Becker's already cut up back, drawing blood and causing Becker to gouge a bite into his shoulder.

Becker snarled at the pain and slowly pulled himself partly out, making Matt scream every swear word under the sun, including Gaelic ones. Eventually, Matt was able to relax a little and Becker found it easier to push back in and get a fluid movement going.

Matt managed to settle into the rhythm and pulled Becker's head down so he could plant their mouths together. He yelled all his screams of pleasure and pain into the kiss, but as Becker's relentless pounding into Matt's body grew harder, so too did the kiss. They eventually needed air but as their lips ripped apart, a hefty jolt into his arse forced a scream from Matt.

This was not what he was used to, sex wasn't ever this intense for either of them, but Matt was caught between the two sensations, loving both the searing pain and the ecstasy as it increased with every rapid push from Becker. His arms wound around Becker's body and he held on, for more.

After a while —he didn't know how long—Matt's eyes began to blur and his breathing quickened to short, shallow pants and everything around him began to shake, or was that him? He didn't know about time or anything other than what Becker was doing to him, the ecstasy he was pounding into his body.

The pressure within him grew and exploded. Matt's throat burned through his yells when he came and he let go of Becker, now limp, exhausted, pained and pleasured. He lay, one arm flopped over his eyes and the other rubbing contently at the wetness over his stomach, as Becker still moved inside him.

Matt did what he could for Becker, but even after being spent, the soldier's movements pleasured him that he could hardly move. Then Becker kept stopping, lost in rhythm until he wrapped his arms around Matt and his own body stiffened. A string of softly whispered expletives came from his mouth before he collapsed.

Becker was shaking as well and for a moment the two of them lay there coiled in each-others' legs and arms until they settled, almost to the point of dozing off. But then Becker slipped over onto his back.

"You bastard!" Matt groaned. His arm rose up and whacked Becker across the face.

"What?" Becker rolled onto his front and the pillow muffled his mocking response and his laughter.

"You wait 'til it's your turn!"

"Bring it on!"

* * *

><p>The sun was beginning to come up. In this apartment, surrounded by glass, the light of yellows and oranges came in everywhere and there was no place to hide. Becker saw the colours intruding before his eyes even opened and when they did, he snapped them closed and pulled the duvet back over his head. When that didn't work, he moaned like a little boy who had been told he had to get up and go to school.<p>

He flipped the duvet back and tried to accustom himself to the morning sun. He hated it, because the sun had woken him before he was ready and now that he was conscious…he had to move.

Becker peered up the other end of the bed and saw that Matt was still asleep. There was no way he was going to be able to get up without waking him, as the Irishman was sprawled across Becker's groin, his head comfortably resting on a pillow. His arms were angled out above his head and every so often Becker saw his fingers twitch, no doubt unconsciously remembering what they had done to him a good few hours ago.

Becker turned from his back to his side and failed miserably from not waking Matt up. Matt groaned and then a few seconds later his head rose a couple of inches from the pillow.

"You're still here, then?" His Northern Irish accent seemed heavier when combined with morning fatigue. Matt let out a yawn and shifted a little so Becker could move. The men were suffering from the fight, their injuries were now hurting ten times more and certain other places were feeling extremely tender as well.

"Charming." Becker winced as he sat up and checked the various and quite deep bite marks down each of his sides. "Have you ever thought of getting blinds for this place?"

"Not really." Matt shrugged his shoulders and then ruffled his damp, sweaty hair before yawning again.

"Try it, Matt," Becker suggested as he picked up a pair of jeans and then lobbed them straight at the other man's head. "It'll do wonders."

"Worried about people seeing what we're up to?" Matt laughed, lying on his back and propping his hands behind his head. "If you are, I'd suggest you put some clothes on if you're going to wander around."

"I would…." The irritation sounded in Becker's voice, "If I could find what's left of them!"

"You'd find 'em more easily if you didn't wreck other people's apartments."

"Hey…I'm not the only one to blame here!"

"You started it!"

"Oh, don't start that shit again!"

Matt's laughter signalled the end of the conversation and Becker was allowed to look for the remainder of his clothes. He didn't really care that much that he was strolling round a wrecked apartment completely naked…in fact, as he searched through the debris, Becker finally realised just how great he did feel, despite the soreness from his physical injuries.

He felt good. Happy. For the first time in weeks, he felt stress free and so at ease that he began to grin as he strolled around the place. It was because of that bloody Irishman lounging on the bed, it was that often stoic, annoying, funny…yeah good-looking…bloke that was making Becker beam more than the sun that had woken him up this morning. He couldn't believe how scared and fearful he'd been at first just because Matt was a guy.

Peering around the wall, Becker watched Matt as he sat up and shuffled to the end of the bed.

Matt didn't look as happy as Becker was, something was clearly occupying his thoughts and worrying him. Was it the whole, _they were both men_ aspect and because they worked together so this new relationship could make things complicated at the ARC? Becker thought about asking him and was about to go and 'talk' in the normal manner, like most people do, but he stopped when he saw the other man drop his head in his hands and shake.

Something was really bothering him and the fact that Matt was maybe having doubts about the two of them, made Becker feel the same.

"Matt…are you all right?" He asked.

Matt sat bolt upright and ran his hands over his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just knackered and bit sore…that's all."

"You sure?"

"Yeah! I'm fine!" Matt smiled, but Becker knew it wasn't one of his genuine ones. He was worried and hiding something troubling. "Will you stop fussing and put the kettle on?" Matt demanded "I could really use a cup of coffee right now."

"Sure."

Becker walked away, not wanting to think negatively about this new stage in their relationship. He immediately found his own jeans, flung over one of the cabinets…which was strange as he remembered just dropping them by the bed. He slipped them on and the jeans tugged a little too tightly at his tender areas, so he walked to the kitchen bar very cautiously.

"Looks like coffee is off the menu," he said as he saw the state of kitchen. "Your kettle is ruined, the coffee is all over the floor and we've got nothing to drink it from. In fact, as most of your plates and bowls are broken as well, I'd say breakfast is cancelled."

"I'd best get in the shower then." Matt appeared and strolled casually past, stretching and yawning and as he did so.

In the space of a few minutes, a huge change had come over Matt. He walked through his apartment casually and confidently and to Becker it seemed like he didn't have any worries or doubts at all. What he'd seen a moment ago was a man who deeply regretted something he'd done and was afraid for something or someone, but now Matt appeared to be happy. He was smiling and walking with that slight swagger that Becker liked so much, in fact Becker was extremely tempted to smack a heavy palm against that swaying arse of his.

"I'll get something to eat on my way into the ARC," Matt half spoke and half yawned, as he stretched his body before getting to the stairs.

"What about me?"

"You?" Matt walked half way down to the next level and paused. "You can join me if you want."

The most fiendish grin spread across Becker's face.

"Do you mean the shower or the breakfast?" he asked leaning over the banister.

"What do you think?"

Becker walked down the stairs and slowly began to unbutton the jeans. Well they hadn't stayed on for long.

* * *

><p><em>"Thanks so much for staying to help me tidy up (!) I'll meet you in the ARC later. Make some excuse why I'm not there." <em>

Matt smiled at the text and began to send one in reply to Becker as he walked towards the Ops room. He was amazed by how easy and comfortable this new relationship felt, or rather how at ease he was with Becker. It was like before, with all the teasing and joking but with the added bonus of amazing—if a little painful—sex as well.

But Matt wasn't completely at ease. He had gone against his father's orders and got close to someone from this time…again. Matt had faltered, lost concentration when he should have been focusing on his mission. The anomalies were being screwed with and the whole of humanity's fate depended on Matt to do the right thing. He couldn't be distracted now…even if it did feel great.

The smile vanished after he sent the text message back. He shouldn't be having a relationship with anyone, it was why he'd had to let Emily go—_oh gods, Emily_—he had to do the same with Becker. They had to remain professional.

"I've just read your report on the Danny Quinn situation."

Matt looked up from his phone. Standing in the middle of the corridor was the one man he really didn't want to bump into today. The CEO of Prospero was there, with his hands in his pockets and looking at Matt with a condescending gaze.

Philip Burton was his main suspect. If there was anyone who would try to interfere with the anomalies and Convergence, then it was this arrogant man standing before him. Matt and his father had gathered years of intel and now their hard work was paying off.

He had to concentrate.

_Don't think of Emily…or Becker. Do what you came here for. _

_Connor is the key. _

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><p>Becker saw the couple embrace and kiss, and as he crouched down next to the bin a small part of him wished he could have done that same with Matt. They exchanged glances and Becker settled for something just as meaningful to them both.<p>

"Next time, run quicker!" he panted.

"It's nice to see you too, mate," Matt said, looking round at the devastation Becker's explosives had created. "The creatures?"

"All dead."

Matt crouched down next to Becker and he received a friendly pat on his chest.

"Nice work."

Was that all he could think of saying? He had been frantic with worry when they came down after the explosion. Becker had actually thought he was going to have a panic attack because he couldn't bear the thought of Matt and Connor lying dead somewhere. He had set off the explosives and if they hadn't found the rubbish bin, he would have been responsible for their deaths. 'Nice work' may have been what he'd actually said, but his face showed Matt everything he was thinking. So did the smile that Matt returned to him.

_"Hey…I'm okay. We're okay. Besides you can't get rid of me that easily." _

Becker reached out and instead of whacking a friendly and affectionate smack against Matt's face, he squeezed his shoulder and then rose to his feet to help Connor.

The ride back to the ARC was eventless. Abby and Connor sat in the back, sitting close and holding each other whilst Becker drove.

Today had been a good day, especially with how it had started. A new daunting and exciting stage in a relationship had begun, he'd got to use live ammunition and real weapons on the burrowing creatures and no one had died on his watch…especially not Matt. The day would have been made absolutely perfect if Lester had let him have the tank.

When they got back, Abby and Connor rushed off into the building, leaving the two men to haul away the equipment. It was a silent process…but the two of them couldn't stop exchanging meaningful looks, smiles and stupid faces.

"What?" Becker finally asked when the last of the guns were locked securely away. He had sensed Matt was staring at him, and this time he wasn't pulling a stupid grin.

"Just thinking."

"That's dangerous, isn't it?"

They both sniggered.

"No…I mean…today. Last night…this morning…what we…."

"Oh god, are you going to get teary-eyed on me, Matt? I'm not hugging you, we made that clear. No hugging."

"No. I wouldn't do that." Matt sighed. "I meant that after everything that happened, we still worked well. It didn't feel awkward. Did it?"

"No, it was far from awkward. It was right, good…except for the 'me thinking you'd died' part, just now." Becker and Matt began to walk side by side towards Ops. "I'm telling you, Matt, you pull something like that again without informing me, I swear I will…"

He couldn't keep a straight face, not when Matt's eyebrow raised in question and an eager smile curled his lips slightly.

"You will what?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh don't! Don't get any ideas!"

"I'm sayin' nothing!"

"But you're thinking it!"

"Sure. I'm thinking all kinds of things right now."

"Git."

"Don't blame me…you're the one who put it in there."

"Bad choice of words, Matt."

"It's your gutter mind."

They laughed and the rest of the conversation played out like telepathy between them, emphasised with knowing glances and sly smiles. They couldn't stop sniggering and grinning like school boys even when they got to Ops. As they came down the stairs, Matt unclipped his black box from his belt and handed it Becker who took both of their boxes up to Jess. He really couldn't stop smiling.

"You're in a good mood," said Jess, taking the boxes and putting them back in their charger cases. He nodded. "I'm so pleased…you and Matt have been insufferable bores this past week. It's great you two aren't fighting anymore."

"Sorry, we've been a couple of arseholes, Jess."

Jess flapped a dismissive hand.

"No apologies necessary, just don't fall out with Matt again. Got it?"

"Got it."

Becker's smile dropped a little. He knew that sooner or later he would have to talk to her, but he wasn't ready. The thought of breaking her heart and upsetting her was horrible to contemplate, and until he was certain in his mind what he and Matt actually were, then he wasn't going to say a thing.

He did love Jess, Becker knew that, however, it was not in the same way that she saw him. It could never be in the same way.

Becker forced the smile wider, just for her and walked away before she could engage him in anymore conversation. He didn't want complications now, even though they were there, like anomalies, popping up when you didn't want them. He didn't want to deal with the problems he knew they'd have to face or Matt's own issues.

It shouldn't be like this.

* * *

><p>Unfortunately, a complication arose that neither of them could ignore.<p>

Becker had gone away for a few days, to celebrate his birthday with his family. Upon his return, he went to see Matt and found him standing out on the balcony, in the freezing cold, wearing only his jeans and glaring at a piece of paper.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Are you all right or is your electric bill really that bad?"

Matt didn't say anything, he just handed the paper to Becker and instantly Becker understood. The newspaper article on the bottom right hand side explained everything.

"So that's what happened to her." Becker leaned on the railing next to Matt and the two of them looked out over the city. "I had wondered myself."

"Really?"

"I may not have got on as well as you did with her, but Emily was strong, Matt. She could handle herself against creatures and she had been travelling through anomalies to different eras for years. A mental institute wouldn't hold her, no way."

"I should never have allowed her to go back."

"You can't say for definite that she died in that place. You don't know."

"And you can't say that she didn't," Matt sombrely replied.

"You miss her. It's understandable, but I don't believe that Emily Merchant would have died in there. You knew her…so you shouldn't believe it either."

Matt shook his head and then walked inside. He went behind the kitchen counter and took a single beer can out of his fridge. He placed it on the kitchen top but then just stared at it. It remained untouched.

He was torn up. He was racked with guilt—and had been since that day—the day that he had sent Emily back. She might have died alone in that place. Matt saw the way Becker was looking at him, sympathy combined with worry and fear; and he didn't blame him. Here he was thinking about a woman from the past—there was nothing he could do for her—in front of the man who he was certain he was getting feelings for.

What must Becker be thinking?

"Got any more beers?"

Matt had to laugh. Trust Becker to make situations better.

"Sure."

* * *

><p>Becker saw the long black ringlets of hair first, framing a pale beautiful face. A body swathed in black came through the anomaly and then collapsed.<p>

"Matt! I'm shot!"

Panic rose in his chest.

_No. No! Emily, don't die! You can't! Not now! Not like this! _

"I'll get the medical kit!" he cried, lowering his weapon and running back to the kit bag propped against the pillar. He fumbled at the bag, his hands were shaking but then he heard Matt's voice behind him.

"There's no blood. There's no blood!"

Becker jumped to his feet and rushed over to where Matt was cradling Emily in his arms. He stood over them and saw the look of joy and relief upon their faces. He smiled, relieved that Emily was okay, but the smile became bitter-sweet as he watched Matt holding her so intimately. It was something that he and Matt had never shared.

"There's no wound. Your outfit saved you."

Then everything happened in an instant. Becker had been distracted by the closeness Matt and Emily were sharing that he didn't see the other man come through until it was too late. He saw the gun pointing at Matt and felt a sickening knot twist inside him.

Keeping as calm as possible, he aimed his EMD rifle directly at the man. Henry Merchant jabbed the pistol into Matt's neck and snarled down at his wife on the floor.

"Get to your feet, woman. Now! Or your lover dies!"

The strange booming sounds of the art exhibition were activated, scaring the Victorian man, putting him even more on edge.

Emily rose defiantly to her feet and blocked Becker's line of fire. She heard his disapproval and looked back at him with a small smile. She knew what she was doing. He marvelled at how she then tried to calm Henry down, her pleas confident and calm, even if she was just like Becker on the inside; afraid for Matt, afraid that the pistol would go off.

"Henry, put the gun down. Please. No one here means you any harm."

Becker saw the raptor wakeup. Its head twitched and then its feet, and it began to rise up. His line of fire was still blocked.

"Look out behind you!" he yelled, pushing Emily back and away. Matt managed to take advantage of Henry's loosened grip and ripped himself free, but Merchant only became more frantic and pointed the gun at Becker.

"Stop! Stay where you are!"

Becker wanted to yell at him to move, to tell him to run just as Matt had done, but the raptor was quick. It leapt up from the floor and its jaws latched onto the man's neck, ripping and tearing his flesh within seconds. Becker saw the body fall to the floor and the raptor was now looking back at him.

No more running this time.

Becker opened fire again and again. The shock pulses rendered the raptor limp and unconscious on the floor, but it didn't make him feel any better. If only he'd had his shotgun.

Becker checked Merchant's corpse and stated the obvious for the benefit of other two behind him.

"He's dead."

Emily stared at the body of her husband with Matt touching her shoulders for comfort, but Becker could see she wasn't about to break. This was a man she hadn't loved, a man she wouldn't miss, but she'd never wanted him to die this way. For a moment, Emily just stood there staring, but then she turned to face Matt and embraced him with a strong, crushing hug.

Becker stood by the raptor and tried to look anywhere except at the couple still locked in a tight embrace. Emily was back now and that meant Matt wouldn't want anything to do with him anymore. He'd got back what he'd thought he had lost and Becker had no place any more.

The jealous anger began to boil inside him. He didn't want to be here.

Becker took hold of his radio and pressed the button.

"Greaves,Lewis…come and deal with this bloody raptor. Now."

"_Yes, sir! We're on our way."_

With the affirmative confirmed, Becker began to storm out of the room but not quite fast enough.

"Captain."

Emily's formal mode of address made him stop. He turned around, his arm was gripped tightly and he was pulled hard. Two strong arms coiled around his body and squeezed, the words _"Thank you"_ were murmured against his chest. Becker hugged her back and Emily's ebony curls brushed against his face. He breathed in deeply, inhaling a light lavender scent.

"Becker."

He had closed his eyes in that moment, relishing the feel of a woman in his arms, even if it was only for comfort. The mention of his name made him open them and he saw Matt beside him. Matt's hand was on his shoulder.

"Thank you."

Becker gave him a quick, sharp nod of the head in response and went to break out of their grasp. They needed to be on their own…needed to have time to themselves now that they had found each other again.

"Becker!"

"I…I have to go…someone needs to fill out a report for Lester."

"I'd much rather you join us for a beer."

Becker couldn't help but smile.

"We're in serious danger of becoming alcoholics, you do realise that, right?"

"Is that a yes then?"

Yes. Becker could allow himself one last beer. Just one.


End file.
